Moment
by ThisIsAllIWrite
Summary: Karkat has a grudge against John, so he takes a moment to indulge in the pleasures of the internet. John/Karkat, hinted Karkat/Gamzee, cultural sensitivity to full nudity and buckets. Mature content.


A/N: Just a fun little thing full of headcanons.

**WARNING:** Copious amounts of genetic material, cultural sensitivity to full nudity and buckets.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

"Hnnnnng, _fuck_."

Little quiet murmers kept slipping from the chair on the other side of the respiteblock, managing to squirm between the television's blaring speakers and John's ears. It had been very distracting, and finally the human paused the troll movie he was so intently following to offer his friend a few cool words.

"Karkat, I know what you're doing. You don't have to keep rubbing it in by making such a racket."

The figure in the chair froze for just a moment, the silence punctuated by the soft clicking of keys.

"Shut the fuck up, Egbert. I'm nice enough to let you watch my shows and you're sitting here criticizing me for something that is your own fucking fault."

John rolled his eyes, very fresh memories flashing behind his eyes. How the hell could he have known that the absolute worst way to pleasure your partner was to lick their bulge with the rough side of your tongue? And what right did Karkat have to strip him of intimate encounters for the next few days because of that mistake?

He unpaused the movie, and settled back down. There'd be a chance for him to redeem himself, maybe, but not now.

Under the stereo's clamor, Karkat's fingers stopped working the keyboard. One hand went to the mouse, and one hand went to the front of his pants. He opened the tab he had closed in haste and began scrolling while gingerly touching his clothed crotch. It was still damned sore, too sensitive to touch directly with his hands. Fucking Egbert didn't listen to a word of his tirade about how terribly sensitive a troll's bulge was and went ahead and screwed him up for the next three days. He'd have to wait until the delicate skin healed from the fucking sandpaper blowjob before he could wrap his hands around himself and _properly_get off.

In the mean time, just staring at the screen could do. Maybe.

His fingers danced over denim as he browsed the online gallery. Gog damn, Gamzee was such a cam whore when he was stoned off his ass. Every section of the gallery started off the same: stripping, dripping that damned sopor slime down his chest, laying leisurely across the floor in all sorts of cliche alluring positions. But Karkat was scrolling further now, where hands and clothed bulges met, and some images had the clown's head tilted back in pleasure, and oh dear jegus one image of him grabbing something offscreen with his legs spread wide and his zipper slightly pulled down.

The rest of the image was cropped off, but Karkat knew it was a pail that those long, thin fingers had grasped, and just the idea-

"_Nngh_." The troll rocked against his palm, shivering with delight. He kept a small, metal pail in the desk drawer. It wasn't nearly big enough to actually use, just a very dirty novelty item bought in a dim-lit store, but he longed to look at it. Even just glance at it down in the drawer itself, knowing it was there and his hands were here and he could just reach right over and touch it while looking at Gamzee grab his with those fingers-

His back arched in his seat, and warmth spread out under his fingers as precum dribbled out of him, almost in a small stream. These pants were screwed now, but in a few minutes they'd be royally fucked, overkill style. He'd come and lay total destruction to them, and probably the seat cushion he was resting his fucking ass on right now.

The page stopped scrolling, the gallery had ended. _Fuuuck_.

Palming heatedly at his bulge, Karkat opened the next group of pictures. This time, he scrolled straight past the foreplay shit and dove right into the hardcore unzipping. Usually there were only a few of these risque images, but it looked like the Capricorn was seriously fucked up while doing this session because the pictures just kept fucking _rolling _by.

Tempted to his limit, Karkat furtively glanced at his desk drawer. Savoring the thought, he opened it just enough to see the shine of metal from the back, the rim of the tiny thing catching flashes of light from the tv across the room. This was good, but it could be better. He reached in and quietly stole it from the hiding place, and let it fall with a muffled 'pat' to the carpet between his ankles.

Oh shit, this was _dirty as fuck_. And it made it even better.

The pictures loading on the monitor were even hotter than normal. Those thin, bony fingers were pushing themselves under loosened hems, and Karkat wasn't sure if the moan that rumbled in his chest actually stayed put or was broadcast out of his mouth. Clothing was being worked down, and the more he scrolled, the lower those pants got.

So low, in fact, that suddenly Karkat was face-to-screen with Gamzee's naked, half-hard bulge. Oh shit, oh _shit_, he mewled and rutted into his hand, saliva dripping down his chin. Eyes glanced down to the metal bucket between his feet and he had to bite back a sob of bliss.

His red blood was pounding so hard in his ears that he didn't even take note of the sudden silence of the room. Nothing else existed anymore- not his room, not the tv, not even fucking John Egbert. Just him and those terribly dirty, pornographic images displayed on his monitor.

Gamzee had moved his camera to a different location in his room, and the next images were of him perched on the outside of his recuperacoon like he had just woken up, one sopor-slicked hand caressing himself. The sight was so fucking beautiful that it made Karkat rumble with arousal and want, and his think-pan was having a hard time relaying messages to get his fingers to keep fucking scrolling.

"_Oh, FUCK_." The Cancer's toes curled and his head rolled back, eyes barely open to receive the information displaying in front of him. Fucking Gamzee with his fucking pail sitting uncensored between his knees, fucking _aiming himself_ and oh gog he was so fucking close and the last few pictures were loading and-

_Hot fucking mouth closing over his fucking horn and tongue-fucking the shit out of it and **MOTHERFUCKER**!_

John swirled that cursed-yet-blessed rough tongue around Karkat's left horn, his hand snaking down to palm at the troll's crotch, on top of the clawed fingers that were already gripping the shit out of it. The Cancer's eyes rolled back and his spine curved outward, and the noises that were spewing from his mouth were enough to make John's own pants tight as hell.

Hot, viscous, red-tinted liquid coated the front of Karkat's pants, and more was seeping through with every trance-like jerk of his body. John stopped counting at eight of those powerful hip pumps, instead sucking and caressing those nubby horns while the troll was too busy creaming himself to swat him away.

Karkat always had the best fucking orgasms. It honestly made him a bit jealous.

Smiling, he wiped the troll's sweat-slicked forehead and leaned forward to kiss it lightly. Karkat had stopped seizing, and laid limply against the back of the computer chair. He wore the look of both utter accomplishment and utter exhaustion. And he probably needed a drink after shooting such a significant portion of his body's moisture into his underwear.

And, oh, that underwear needed to be stripped, along with those poor jeans. John carefully lifted Karkat's limp hand from his crotch, and pulled the zipper down. For once, Karkat was compliant, and slowly managed to lift himself up while the human peeled the heavy denim off of him and discarded them to the floor with a very noticeable squelch.

Blue eyes stared down at naked, red-stained skin, and he swallowed hard.

"I guess we should get you cleaned up..."

Karkat glared at him from half-lidded eyes.

"What the fuck... is this 'we' you speak of? In case you haven't noticed, I'm fucking defunct over here..."

John simply smiled, and hooked his hands under Karkat's arms to pull him up.

"Well, I mean, your friend should help, since it's partially his fault." He glanced at the monitor, lips warping further into a grin. "But I think I can handle giving you a bath, if you think I won't ruin that for you, too."

After a moment of no reply, soft lips pressed against the troll's skin. "I promise I'll be careful."

Karkat's face sunk into John's shoulder, and he held on as he was lifted out of the chair. An arm hooked under his knees, and he allowed himself to be carried to the bathroom.

"Fucker."


End file.
